


Connections

by LostMyWit



Series: Arijon short fics [13]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Because Wounded Isn’t A Common Tag, F/M, Family Issues, Major Character Injury, Military Background, Reconciliation, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMyWit/pseuds/LostMyWit
Summary: Based on a prompt by guest T.In which Jon is wounded overseas, and Arianne and the Starks must come to terms.





	Connections

She was on edge the entire plane ride. Tense. Snappish. She had to restrain herself from lashing out at every little complaint she overheard.

Ariane kept replaying the moment from the kitchen in her head. She’d just gotten home when the call came, and at first she’d been relieved. Jon had missed their usual time, and she’d been trying to keep herself from thinking too much of it. Things happened in war zone, after all.

But the caller ID had been different. Instead, it was from the US government. She’d seen the ID before, when Quentyn had been caught in the firebomb. She’d had to brace herself on the counter before answering.

“How is he?” She had demanded, before the man on other end could even get a word out.

“Ms. Martell?” a tired voice had asked.

“This is her,” she’d answered impacently. “How is Jon?”

“This is Colonel Mormont of the Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment. Your husband, Captain Jon Snow, was wounded in action yesterday. He is stable, but he’s unable to speak at the moment. Arrangements are being made to move him to a hospital in Germany where you’ll be able to meet with him.”

“What happened?” She’d demanded. “When can I see him?”

“As soon as possible, ma’am,” the colonel had reassured her, unhelpfully. “He’s been wounded by shrapnel in his chest and throat. At the moment, he is unable to speak.”

Arianne hadn’t been able to do any more than nod mutely. “Thank you, Colonel.”

She’d packed a bag the moment the call ended, and left as soon as the details came down to her.

  
As she made her way through the terminal at the German airport, a flurry of images rushed through her mind.

About half were happy. Their first date, their wedding, the sweaty hugs he would give after mowing the yard, the gentle smiles that were always the first thing she saw in the morning, and every other moment or quality that made her love him.

The other half were terrible. Visions of him being blasted by a grenade or a roadside bomb, blood covering his face, his lifeless body on a hospital bed, a dozen machines the only thing keeping him alive. A flag draped over a coffin.

She shook herself. It didn’t do any good to think about that.

Not that it kept the thoughts out of her head.

  
“Arianne.”

“Catelyn.”

Arianne reguarded her mother-in-law coldly. They had never been on the best of terms.

The air was tense in the hospital lobby. The Starks had all crammed onto one couch, Arianne opposite them, all by herself.

“I hadn’t expected to see you all here,” Arianne admitted.

Ned looked away guilty. Catelyn pursed her lips.

“We’re his family,” she said. “We have a right to be here.”

Arianne snorted. “I would bet you haven’t spoken in six months. Am I wrong?”

Catelyn held her gaze defiantly. Ned couldn’t look up from his shoes. Robb held Sansa, but neither said anything. Bran didn’t either, and Rickon looked like he knew something was wrong, but had no idea what. Only Arya raised a hand.

“I’ve to him talked a few times,” she said. “I tired to send him some Boy Scouts popcorn.”

Arianne softened a little, and gave the girl a smile. Of all of them, it would be Arya to stay in touch with the more or less estranged half sibling.“I know. He told me he and his friends enjoyed them.” She looked back to the rest of them. “So why the sudden interest Jon?” She asked. “Poll numbers dropping?”

Ned finally looked up, mortified. Arianne felt a twinge of guilt. Ned Stark was just about the only honest politician she knew, and if he’d wanted, he could’ve milked the hell out of his sons’ military service, but he hadn’t. But he still hadn’t talked to Jon in far too long, and Arianne wasn’t going to let him off the hook for it yet.”

“We’ve been busy,” Catelyn said, testily. “This reminded us of our priorities.”

“Please,” Arianne stood up and stepped closer. “You’re telling me you haven’t been deliberately avoiding the bastard son that had the shotgun wedding to the leftist feminazi?” she asked, using the exaggeration she knew they sometimes called her. “You’re worried what will happen if word gets out he was wounded and none of you did anything.”

“That’s not true!” Ned practically shouted, tears in his eyes. He regained his composure. “That’s not true,” he repeated. “I love him, I just… didn’t know what to say.”

Arianne was astonished. “Tell him you’re proud of him!” She exclaimed. “Tell him you’re sorry for making him feel like he had to join the military to be accepted!” She took back control of herself. “That’s all he’s ever wanted to hear.”

Ned just nodded quietly. Catelyn looked at her coldly.

“You’re wrong to insinuate that we don't care about him,” she said. “And, frankly, I think it’s a bit holier-than-thou.”

Arianne almost laughed. Catelyn Stark was calling _her_ holier-than-thou? “If you really care about Jon,” she said, “then show it. Talk to him. Check up on him. It doesn’t have to be much, just… anything.”

“Ms. Martell? Stark family?”

They all turned to a doctor approaching them.

“He’s ready for you.”

  
He wasn’t quite as bad as her worst fears had been. He didn’t have a half dozen tubes holding him to life, but his face was covered in bandages. He was quiet and his eyes were closed, but he seemed to to notice their arrival.

He stirred as she approached the bed, and she saw his eyes flicker open. He gave a smile, or as much of one as he could manage. Arianne moved to stand by the bed as the Starks filed in.

“The damage to his torso and face is actually minor, it’s the throat that will take the longest to heal,” the doctor explained. “He fell on it, and his vocal cords were damaged.”

Arianne took Jon’s hand tenderly. “Jon,” she said softly.

He squeezed her hand back.

The Starks lined up along the opposite side of the bed, except for Arya and Rickon, who stood by Arianne.

“When…” Ned cleared his throat. “When will he be able to speak again?”

The doctor shrugged. “Difficult to say.”

Jon let go of Arianne’s hand and pinched his thumb and finger together, making squiggles in the air with them.

Rickon nudged Arianne’s leg. “He wants to write.”

Jon gave a slight nod.

Arianne dug around her back and pulled out the notepad she never went without. Old journalist’s habit. She handed Jon the pen as she held the pad. He began writing in a slow, unsteady scrawl.

“ _Thank you all for coming_ ,” she read aloud as Jon wrote. “ _How was the flight_?”

Arianne sighed and rolled her eyes, and Robb gave a watery chuckle. Same old Jon.

“The flight was fine,” Arianne said, deciding not to tell him how worried she’d been just yet. “Is there anything you need?”

Jon began to write on the paper again.

“ _Nothing. I have everything I could ever need right here_ ,”

Jon paused. If it not for the bandages, Arianne suspected, he would have been making a face of mock contemplation.

“ _Except some actual food. I’ll take anything_.”

Arianne sighed again. “Your face better heal soon. I haven’t smacked you in too long.”

Jon started to laugh, but then winced. He raided his arm and his hand brushed across her face. Arianne leaned a little closer.

Jon raised him himself slightly. “I. Will. Be. Okay.” He spoke, slow and rasping. “I. Love. You. Arianne.”

Arianne felt new tears in her eyes. “I love you too.”

  
She didn’t blame Jon for making real food his one request. The stuff from the hospital cafeteria was terrible.

“Arianne?”

She looked up from her remarkably unsatisfying meal to Catelyn had seated herself across the table from her.

“Are you alright?” Catelyn asked her.

Arianne briefly considered a rebuttal, but decided Catelyn was being sincere. Or at least really good at pretending.

“I think I am,” she said. “At least I will be. And I’m better than I was on the plane, now that I’ve seen him.”

Catelyn nodded. “Do you know when he’ll be able to come back home?”

Arianne shook her head. “Not yet, but I intend to find out soon.”

Catelyn nodded again and wrung her hands. “Arianne,” she began tentatively. “I know you and I haven’t always been on the same side. And that I wasn’t the best to Jon growing up.”

Arianne almost snorted, but she made herself wait for the ‘but’.

“But I want to be closer now,” she continued. “I know how hard it is to be a soldier’s wife. And I shouldn’t have blamed Jon for circumstance beyond his control.” She swallowed, and Arianne liked to think she was swallowing her pride. “If there’s anything you need, please ask. I’m sorry that it took an IED for me to realize this, but we’re family. I think families should help each other.”

Arianne didn’t answer for a moment. She looked for something in Catelyn that would give away what she really felt, but all she saw was honesty.

“Thank you,” She eventually answered. “That’s very kind.”

Catelyn gave a small smile.

“Does this mean we can come over for holiday dinners?” Arianne asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Catelyn laughed and Arianne was relieved by warmth she saw it.

“Of course,” She said. “After this hospital food, you’ve earned it.”

**Author's Note:**

> To clear things up, this doesn’t take place the same universe as “The Journalist and the Soldier”, I’m just too lazy to come up with different backstories. Sorry?
> 
> I hope this is up to scratch. Thanks for reading, comments and criticism always appreciated.
> 
> For moodborads, aesthetics, and visual aids to my stories, I’m on Tumblr at AriJon Extras by LostMyWit.


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